And tonight I couldn’t sleep,
because thoughts of you had
plagued me.
All the little things that you
would always do to me, and
me only; or so I’d like to think.
The way you’d brush my hair
behind my ear, or twirl it
between your fingers; the way
you’d tell me how cute I looked,
or hugged me so damn randomly,
even on the days where I felt
so shit and ugly.
Do you like making me feel
good about myself?
Only to make me feel even
worse than ever before?
I don't really know how you
manage it, and I don't really
know how to make myself
stop thinking about all the
good things that you ever did;
because for every good thought
that I ever have of you, a bad
one follows not far behind.
☪
